Snow Bound: a series of one shots
by ASeriousPiggyback
Summary: ZA AU. Daryl and Beth have been holding up in a cabin after snow disrupts their journey north. (A series of bethyl one-shots)
1. Chapter 1

_A/N- I've been feeling kinda crapy the last few days and haven't been able to work on my current fiction "Finding Normal" but this idea came to me when it started to snow today. It's a quick work and probably contains some errors, but I hope it can make some other people smile too. Thanks for reading._

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><p>"Daryl, come play in the snow." Beth's face glowed as she stared out the cabin's window. She hadn't seen much snow in her life, and never the foot that was on the ground now. She had stopped dreaming about getting to see a snow like this after the walkers arrived.<p>

"Play? In the snow?" Daryl questioned grumpily, raising an eyebrow but not bothering to lift his head and acknowledge Beth as he poorly attempted to sew a rip in his vest with the cabin's needle and pink thread. They had been alone for a few months now and were slowly moving north. Beth had come up with the idea to move toward the country's capital and Daryl had no reason to tell her no.

"Please?" Beth tried to sound sweet. She knew Daryl would have one of two reactions: brush her off or give in. Lately, he had been giving in more often than not.

Daryl finally looked up, holding up his vest in defeat. "You sew this when we get back inside and we can go out if the coast in clear."

Beth just broke out in a smile in response, grabbing her jacket from the broken coat rack and pulling her knitted cap over her loose blonde hair.

"Damn, Greene. Slow down. We just need to go out and get some air. I can't stand being cooped up in here." Daryl complained as he grabbed his own coat from its spot on the table, but Beth could see the edges of his lips twitch as he pulled his jacket on.

"Hat?" Beth offered the black knitted cap they had found in the cabin, bounding over to Daryl, unable to hide her excitement.

"You'll be right back at the damn fire in five minutes." Daryl warned, pulling the cap over his messy hair and grabbing his crossbow from its spot by the door. "Southern blood ain't made for snow."

"I'll last longer than you." Beth challenged as she grabbed her knife from the windowsill. They had made themselves at home in this hunting cabin. The weapons were the first objects to get dedicated spots, but clothes and their few possessions soon followed. Only an emergency bag remained packed by the door. Though the decision had never been formally made, both parties knew they'd be here a while.

Beth and Daryl's conversation automatically paused as they moved quietly to opposite windows, peeking through boards for any sign of movement outside. After a minute of watching, Daryl moved to the door first, holding up his crossbow as he unlatched the bolts. At this point, their movements were so perfected they didn't even need to signal, Beth positioned herself behind Daryl, her knife drawn.

"We're good." Daryl determined, stepping outside slowly. "Don't see nothing out here and the traps on the perimeter would make noise if any try to come closer."

"They're so slow in the cold." Beth reflected as she put away her knife. "We could probably skip away from them."

Beth meant the comment as a joke but Daryl snapped in response. "Underestimating them is how you end up bitten, Greene. Never underestimate them."

Beth just smiled reassuringly to Daryl in response. Daryl had only gotten more protective over the months, as whatever was developing between them grew stronger, but she didn't mind. She was just as protective of him.

Beth stomped through the snow for a minute, appreciating the crunch under her feet and staring back at her tracks in the snow. Finally she stopped, turning back to face Daryl who stood stone still, his crossbow over his shoulder and his nose turning pink.

"So… What does playing in the snow actually entail?" She questioned, realizing she didn't have any plans beyond getting outside.

"Hell if I know." Daryl shrugged, kicking some snow off his worn boots.

Beth sighed as Daryl's eyes returned to the perimeter, watching for any movement, whether it be danger or potential prey.

Suddenly, Daryl felt the icy shock of snow hitting his face, leaving a burning sensation behind it. His bow was drawn before he registered Beth's laughing, another snowball already in her hand.

"You asked for it, Greene." Daryl warned, letting his crossbow fall to his side as he bent over, grabbing chunks of snow to throw her way.

Beth attempted to run but quickly tripped over her own feet as she was slowed down by the snow and within a moment Daryl was above her, a smile glued to his face and more snowballs in his hands.

"I give up! You win!" Beth admitted, trying to cover her face with her cold hands.

"That's what I thought." Daryl bragged, dropping the snowballs at his side before reaching a hand out to Beth in a sign of peace.

Just as he was pulling her up, a sudden look of joyous realization flashed across Beth's face and she jerked her body down, causing both her and Daryl to fall into the snow.

"Damnit, Greene!" Daryl yelled, trying to sound mad but a light laugh slipping into his tone. "Now we'll both freeze!"

Beth just continued laughing, her face turning a light pink from the cold. As she looked over at Daryl, noticing the snow now frozen to his beard, her laugher intensified.

"It's been five minutes." Daryl determined, pushing himself back up. "My southern blood needs the fire and we still got some of that rabbit left."

Beth nodded in agreement, this time allowing Daryl to pull her back up with one arm.

After they had re-bolted the door and stripped their outerwear, Beth and Daryl settled in by the fire and Beth allowed her head to fall onto Daryl's shoulder, as it had done so many times before when sitting in the same position. She couldn't place the moment she and Daryl had become so comfortable with each other, but she never took the familiarity for granted.

Without a word, Daryl's arm moved around Beth and he allowed his cheek to rest on her head for a moment. Though Beth often rested against Daryl, he had yet to return the favor.

"You seemed cold." Daryl muttered awkwardly, as if suddenly realizing what he had done.

Beth just smiled, holding out her hand, "Feel my fingers, they're freezin'"


	2. Snow Angels

Something about Beth Greene in the snow was fitting. Sure, she was southern, her blood far too thin for the chill in the air, but she still fit. Snow, like Beth, appears innocent, serene, and harmless at first. It is beautiful and captivating to look at. It isn't until you need to accomplish something despite the snow that you realize just how resilient it is. How much it can put up a fight. How much it _forces _you to acknowledge its existence.

To Daryl, Beth Greene was snow. The perfect mixture of purity and hope, combined with an indomitable strength that shouldn't be underestimated.

Daryl snuck glances at Beth as she concentrated on attempting to roll the snow into a base for her snowman. He didn't have the heart to reveal to her that the snow was too powdery to effectively stick together on such a big project. Rather, he just watched and listened as she swore quietly to herself.

"Cold yet, Greene?" He asked, adjusting his crossbow over his shoulder.

"No." She huffed, patting her hands together in an attempt to bring circulation back to her fingers. "Ya _know_, you _could_ help."

Daryl just laughed in response, turning his head away and pretending to scan the perimeter.

He still couldn't shake the memory of last night. Following their first adventure into the snow, something changed between them. They sat by the fire, as they had so many nights in this cabin, and Beth leaned into his shoulder, as she had done on many other cold evenings, but this time Daryl returned the favor and ended up with her hands between his, slowly warming up her frozen fingers. After a while, the pans on the perimeter clanged and Daryl went out with his crossbow, only to find a sickly looking raccoon wandering up their front steps. By the time he returned, Beth was occupied melting snow over the fire for tea and they never mentioned the exchange.

But now, Daryl couldn't shake the feeling of her hands in his. He kept squeezing his fingers into fists, as if trying to erase the memory from his palms but the warm sensation never dissipated.

Daryl had to shake himself out of his daze, just as Beth finally gave up, kicking at the snow below her boots.

"This was a _dumb_ idea." She mumbled. "Let's just go huntin like you said."

Daryl made his way closer. "Too bad, a snow-walker would-a been good bow practice for ya."

Beth didn't smile like she usually did at his lame jokes, causing Daryl to reach out and touch her arm reassuringly. "It's just snow, Greene?"

Beth gave a half-hearted smile, looking at the ground rather than up at Daryl. "My sisters and I always talked about going away for a white Christmas. Goin north. Making snowmen and snow angels on Christmas day. Guess I just wanted to do somethin for them... now that they're…"

Daryl felt a pull on his heart. Beth usually mentioned Maggie in an optimistic light. She would always talk about _when_ she and Maggie were back together, rather than if. She carried so much hope that the others had made it out of the prison that even Daryl started to believe their friends were safe.

Daryl didn't know how to respond to Beth's sudden change of heart and he knew she didn't expect him to. Talking through feelings never was his thing, even if they had gotten close. Rather, after a moment he sighed, taking the crossbow off his back and handing it to Beth.

"You want yer damn snow angel?" He asked, letting his body fall back on the ground with a thud.

The last time Daryl Dixon tried to make a snow angel, he was 6 or 7 years old, and Merle kicked his ass for acting like a girl. But he still figured out the simple movements to create the desired effect in the snow, slowly and awkwardly moving his arms and legs.

Daryl knew he made the right decision when a quiet laugh escaped Beth's lips.

"Yer laughin at my art?" Daryl questioned, sitting up and immediately feeling the cold snow from the back of his hair fall down the inside of his jacket.

"No!" Beth claimed, her giggles suggesting otherwise.

Daryl stood up slowly, trying not to reveal his effort not to ruin his work. As he stepped back, he couldn't help but be disappointed by the unevenness of the entire thing. Maybe he didn't quite remember how to make snow angels.

"Now, make yer damn angel so we can go inside." He said with a nod toward an untouched patch of snow.

Beth smiled in response, the sadness from just moments ago now erased from her face. She handed Daryl back his bow and eased herself onto the ground, quickly figuring out how to move her arms and legs to make a much more symmetrical snow angel than Daryl had.

After she stood up, they both stepped back, standing arm to arm to look at the pair of angels in silence.

"I think mine's more like a snow demon." Daryl eventually admitted, looking at the awkwardness of his outline next to Beth's.

Beth cocked her head toward Daryl, a steady positivity in her eyes, "Daryl Dixon, you're an angel, never doubt that."


	3. Temporary Peace

_AN- If you guys can't tell, I've updated this fic to be a series of one-shots centering around Beth and Daryl in their winter cabin. They can be read on their own but probably work best together. I'm trying to update every day (or almost every day) based on the tumblr prompts for the 12 days of Bethyl. Hope you enjoy! Please review!_

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><p><strong>A Temporary Peace (Peace prompt)<strong>

There were few times in Daryl's life that he could describe as genuinely peaceful. As a child, peace meant his parents being passed out or just completely absent. It meant a momentary respite from fear and abuse, physical or mental. Peace, at that time, just meant_ temporary_ safety. As a young adult, peace meant one of Merle's rare good moods would allow Daryl to briefly slow down, but even then he remained on edge, waiting for the next problem arise (which it always did). Most of Daryl's more serene moments came after the world changed. When he no longer had to hide that _every day _was just a battle to survive, a battle to move forward. Before the walkers arrived, most people didn't understand that, but now the survivors had to.

Finally, sitting by the fire, with Beth once again leaning her head against his shoulder in a search for warmth, Daryl knew real peace. The walkers were a minimal threat to the cabin with the snow built up outside. No other people, friendly or unfriendly, had come across their path. It was just him and Beth, alone. For the first time in his life, Daryl knew someone understood him, or at least wanted to understand him. She accepted him, flaws and all, and he didn't even have to work to accept her, she was already perfect.

Daryl's peaceful feeling was only interrupted when he became aware of the continuous tingling in his palm. Last night, Beth had offered her hands to be warmed up by his, but she hadn't offered the same tonight. Now her hands sat firmly at the base of her flannel shirt, playing anxiously with its worn edges as if trying to pull an answer out of the threads.

Daryl's mind raced to figure out what he had done wrong. Had he said something? _Not_ said something? Was she worried about Maggie again? Was she upset he didn't ask about Maggie or Glenn? Should he have offered to clean the dishes when she grabbed the plates after dinner or let her skin the rabbit after they went hunting?

Finally, sick of questioning himself, Daryl grabbed Beth's closest hand, holding it firmly in his. "Stop fidgeting," he said gruffly, "It was so damn peaceful in here."

Beth picked her head up in shock, a rush of pink flooding her cheeks before she looked back down at her lap. But Daryl noticed she didn't pull her hand away, rather she closed her fingers around his thumb, allowing their hands to rest together on her thigh. After a moment, she returned her head to his shoulder, releasing a long exhale.

"Ya ever feel guilty we get this?" She asked. She didn't sound upset, but rather genuinely curious. As if his opinion on the question really mattered to her.

Daryl didn't have an answer immediately, at least not one he wanted to share. At that moment, he didn't feel guilty, but he knew Beth probably did.

"Ya know? There are other people out there, probably struggling, just tryin to make it to mornin? And here we are, sittin by a fire, stomachs full o' rabbit. Just relaxing together, like we're a…" Beth paused, searching for the next word, "Just like some friends on vacation or sumthin."

"Hm." Daryl grunted. Trying to come up with a comment that would make her feel better. Sure, it wasn't fair. But he had learned early on, life ain't fair.

"Guess I finally got my vacation." He muttered. "can't use that next time we play yer damn drinkin game."

Beth picked her head up again, looking Daryl in the eye. Suddenly, his shoulder felt exposed, cold. "I mean it. There are people, my sister could be one of them, Rick could be one of them, just struggling to survive the night. Should we feel bad? Should we be doin _more_?"

"No." He answered a little too quickly. Beth looked a taken aback at his immediate response, but she did not speak, she gave him time to expand. She always gave him time to explain, even when he didn't want to.

"Everyone runs at some point." He continued, watching her reaction carefully, "This cabin won't last forever, we both know that. I think you gotta enjoy what ya have, when ya have it. If someone needs help, we help them. But until then, we enjoy… we enjoy this."

After a moment, Beth just gave him a content smile, as if pleased with his response.

"So." Beth started, looking over to the unmade bed and taking her hand away from Daryl's to push loose hair behind her ears, "Who gets first watch tonight?"

Daryl didn't hesitate to respond. He had known the question was coming; it did every night. "I'm wiped. Makin damn snow angels took a lot outta me."

"Then I'll stay-" Beth began to offer.

"Nah," he interrupted. "I figure we can both get a full night's rest for once. Haven't heard nothin all day. Snow's fallin again. Those slow walkers ain't getting through the boarded windows tonight. We're good."

To Daryl's surprise, Beth immediately nodded in agreement, as if she had been thinking the same thing. "Well then, I call the good pillow." She said, her tone serious but her lips curling into a smirk.

Daryl shrugged, "Don't matter to me, long as you don't snore." And it didn't matter. Daryl knew, even without a pillow, he would get the most peaceful rest of his life.


	4. You just gotta believe

Beth didn't know how long she was lying there, barely half conscious, the sun peaking through the wooden panels boarding the windows. Though every breath in reminded her of the frigid air outside the bed, she was more comfortable than she had been in years. She couldn't bring herself to move even a toe out of fear of disturbing her peace.

It wasn't until Daryl let out a long exhale on her neck that she finally became aware of where she was. She was in bed with Daryl Dixon. Being spooned by the same man she had once seen wearing a necklace of walker ears.

But he wasn't the same man, not anymore. The Daryl she had grown to know over the past few months was one of the most earnest men she had met in her life. He was the man who, when he saw her begin to lose hope for her missing sister, flopped into the snow to make her an uneven snow angel, even though he couldn't verbalize his support. He was the man who reached nervously for her hand the previous night, thinking he was acting surly but really wore the face of a worried teenage boy. He was the same man who suggested they both get their first full night of rest in months and almost immediately after falling asleep, pulled her in closer to him, burying his face in her hair with a content sigh.

Over the past few months together, Beth had found herself growing to respect Daryl, to trust in him, and eventually to understand him. But now she realized there was something more to their relationship, something that a temporary safety from the walkers had allowed to erupt into feelings that could no longer be ignored.

"Shit! Shit, sorry." Daryl mumbled suddenly, verbally berating himself as he rolled away from Beth and back onto "his side" of the bed before sitting up. By the time she rolled over to face him he was aggressively trying to rub the red out of his cheeks, running his hands over his face and into his hair.

"Shit, sorry." He mumbled again, making fleeting eye contact before feigning a sudden interest in scratching the back of his neck.

"S'okay… Really s'okay" She insisted, unsure how to make him feel less embarrassed. She knew that a humiliated Daryl would pull away and probably refuse to touch her for weeks. And now, after being so close to him, she knew she couldn't handle that loss.

"No, I guess, guess I was cold or sunthin…" He said, still avoiding direct eye contact.

"Daryl…" Beth slowly began to reach her hand toward him but he shifted further away, causing her breath to catch.

"No, I'm… I should… I should restart the fire, then I can-" He began speaking hurriedly, listing chores he could complete alone, away from her.

"Daryl." Beth called his attention again, this time with more force in her voice. He finally looked up, his face an unnatural mixture of vulnerability and artificial annoyance.

"I dunno why you're sayin' sorry… I never said I didn't _like_ it…" Though she tried to sound resolute, Beth could hear her own voice shake as she forced herself to maintain eye contact.

Daryl looked taken aback upon hearing her confession, his eyes growing wide for a moment and his jaw tightening. Beth took advantage of his silence, speaking quickly to keep him from moving further away, "I know this might sound sudden… but come'on Daryl, we both know it ain't. Things haven't been the same since the funeral home. _We_ haven't been the same."

Daryl remained quiet, watching her face with an intense curiosity, his eyes narrowing in thought. Beth sat up on her heals, so she and Daryl were nearly eye to eye, and placed her hands firmly on her knees to keep herself from reaching out to touch him.

Suddenly, she felt a panic growing in her chest, an awareness that if she lost Daryl right now, she might lose him forever. Even if he didn't leave her physically, they could never be the same.

"Damn it Daryl, I know you gotta feel _somethin_'." She pleaded, her voice building with each breath. "There's no way this is just me! I can't go back. Sometimes you just gotta believe there's something good out there. But maybe there's something good in _here _too- we got something here and we gotta take advantage of it while we can."

"I can't…" Daryl started, shaking his head slowly but keeping his eyes focused on Beth.

Suddenly, she recognized the wounded look in his eyes, one she had previously mistaken for skepticism, and it all made sense. She tried reaching out again and this time he allowed her to grab his hand, letting it relax in hers. She started once more, her voice quieter but more confident, "Daryl, sometimes you gotta believe you _deserve_ to be happy. I know the world's thrown a whole lotta crap at you, more than anyone deserves, but you're still a good man. Please don't ignore me just cause you think you don't deserve somethin good. You do, we both do."

Daryl sighed, and in the moment, Beth felt her whole boy relax with relief.

"Damn it Greene, where'd you get all this hope?" Daryl asked, unable to keep a smirk from his lips.

Beth just smiled, "Oh.. you know…"


	5. Some Well Deserved Joy

_A/N- here's my post for today, the prompt was joy. I probably won't be posting tomorrow but I'll be back Saturday! I hope you enjoy, please review!_

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><p>Joy spread through her every limb, every fiber, every thought. She watched Daryl sleeping, his hair falling across his face, stubble speckled with grey, and was tempted to wake him up <em>again<em>. She knew he wouldn't refuse her. If anything, he'd ask what took her so long to get him up for another round.

They had spent days like this. It had started with some light petting, her giggles, shared kisses, but quickly escalated as they realized how much they craved each other's touch, how much they _needed _to be closer. Now, they were nearly out of food, having finished their meat supply, and only had the canned vegetables from their emergency packs left. Beth knew today would be the day they would have to attempt to return to normal, whatever that would be. But she was going to delay that shift for as long as their stomachs and low wood supply would allow.

Rather than waking Daryl, Beth slipped out of bed, pulling his flannel shirt on rather than her own. After tending the low fire, she snuck to the other side of the one room cabin, approaching the stack of boxes she and Daryl had set aside as useless during their first night.

It only took moments of searching to find it. One dented cardboard box, filled with cheap and mostly broken Christmas decorations. When she originally opened the box, Daryl had given her a "don't you even think about it" look and cracked that it was useless to celebrate anything to do with heaven in a world that had clearly gone to hell. But now Beth believed Daryl knew otherwise. There was still good. There was still joy. There were still things worth celebrating.

Beth silently made her way around the room, hanging up random bows, plastic garland, and putting out a frosty the snowman plush on the loveseat by the fire.

"What th' heck you doin, Greene?" Daryl asked groggily, sitting up in the creaky bed and shaking the hair from his eyes.

Beth just smiled over her shoulder before focusing on centering a chipped nutcracker above the fireplace.

"We decidin it's Christmas?" He asked, his voice more accepting than annoyed. Beth loved that he now used "we" when discussing her decisions. The transition had happened so quickly, yet seemed so seamless.

"Yup." Beth chirped, stepping back to examine her work before turning back to the bed where Daryl sat, the worn comforter and quilt haphazardly covering his lap. She couldn't help but smile as she watched him and felt the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Whatcha' thinking bout now, Greene? Still Christmas?" He asked, a smug smirk playing across his lips.

Before she could think of a flirty answer her stomach let out a loud growl, ruining any chance at a romantic moment.

Daryl just laughed, jumping into action and pulling on his pants from the side of the bed. "Damn, you're getting demandin' now that we got this thing goin on."

"Well, I AM burnin a lot of calories."

Daryl walked over, grabbing the small of her back and pulling her closer so she could feel the heat radiating from his body. He leaned in, teasing her lips with his, "Give me back my damn shirt and we'll go huntin'. Then you can have more energy."

Beth closed her eyes, kissing him before answering, "As long as I get the bow."

They caught a rabbit shortly after heading into the woods. Daryl shot it but Beth got a clean headshot on the only walker they encountered, so he spent the walk home praising her for her skill.

As Daryl gutted the rabbit a safe distance from their camp, Beth carted a few buckets of clean snow inside to melt for fresh water and fill their empty jugs. She then took to cooking the rabbit while Daryl went out for wood, promising a nervous Beth not to venture far from the cabin, even if the walkers were slow. Daryl was gone just long enough to make Beth consider going after him, but returned before she had actually made a move to exit the cabin.

"Got us some wood." Daryl announced as he kicked snow off his boots in the doorway, sounding a little too proud of himself for completing an everyday chore. Beth didn't look up immediately but got suspicious when she heard the pine needles scratching on the wooden floor.

"Daryl!" She almost jumped for joy, seeing the small evergreen tree Daryl had haphazardly stood up in the corner.

"What?" He tried to act innocent, "I just figured we could cut it down as we needed more wood."

Beth replaced the lid on the pot hanging above the fire and practically skipped over to Daryl, wrapping her arms around his cold jacket.

"Can we put the ornaments from the box on it?" She asked, biting her bottom lip in an attempt not to look too excited.

Daryl laughed, "You get on that. I gotta grab the other firewood from outside. Pine don't burn too well." Daryl pecked the top of her head before turning to walk back out the door.

For the first time in years, Beth was glad they no longer knew the date. That just meant the holiday joy could last for as long as they wanted it to. And at this point, she figured they deserved a lot of joy.


	6. Need a Little Christmas

_A/N- I missed yesterday's prompt for 12 Days of Bethyl so I write this one up quickly (so apologies if it's a little sloppy). I hope to also get a mistletoe prompt up a little later. This prompt is basically about my headcanons regarding how Beth has celebrated Christmas in the past (I imagine a lot of singing) and her trying to share those memories with Daryl. _

**We Need a Little Christmas**

Daryl didn't actually know much about celebrating Christmas. He knew there was Santa, trees, food, and a lot of presents. But the few times he got brave enough to ask his parents about getting presents for Christmas as a child, she had responded that Christmas was just an excuse to give already spoiled children more gifts and it wasn't meant for people like them. Even after his mother passed away, Daryl had held onto this belief. That was, until he started hearing Beth's stories of her past Christmases.

"So, what was yer favorite part of Christmas as a kid?" Daryl asked, stroking Beth's hair as she rested her head on his chest. Their position reclining on the loveseat, Daryl's legs handing off the edge and Beth settled on top of him, didn't look comfortable, but neither party had any desire to move.

Beth propped herself up on her elbows, so Daryl could better see her face. "Well, when we were kids, my sisters and I used to sing Christmas carols from the moment we were cleanin up Thanksgivin dinner until Shawn would finally scream at us to stop, usually around new years." Daryl just watched her expressions as Beth continued her story; she always got the same look when she was describing memories from her childhood. She would look slightly to the left, as if watching the scene play itself out on the floor, only occasionally raising her eyes to acknowledge that Daryl was still listening.

"We used to think we were so talented," she admitted with a laugh, "Annette would have us harmonize, even when it didn't fit the song. It's only now that I actually feel bad for poor Daddy and Shawn, they always tried so hard to put up with it."

"So what'd ya sing?" Daryl asked partially to know the answer but mainly to keep Beth talking. He loved hearing her voice, especially when it was so content.

"Everythin. You ever see the musical Mame?"

Daryl just raised a skeptical eyebrow causing Beth to giggle and settle her head back onto his chest, absentmindedly running her hand up and down his side as his hand stroked her lower back.

"Well it's just a silly musical, but was one of my mom's favorites. There's a song in it, "We Need a Little Christmas." Technically it only has two parts, but we split it into three since no one was willing to sit out. It was our favorite thing to sing together. Daddy preferred when we sang "Silent Night" though. He always liked more traditional hymns for Christmas time."

Beth propped herself up on her elbows again, looking into Daryl's eyes curiously, "Do you have a favorite Christmas Carol?" She asked, tilting her head curiously.

"Nah." He responded with a shrug. Honestly, he wasn't sure he had ever heard any Christmas Carol all the way through but he hated reminding Beth his childhood hadn't been the same as hers, even if he was sure she never forgot.

Beth pursed her lips for a moment before moving to sit up on the loveseat, pulling Daryl with her so they were side by side. Though Daryl hated to have her move away from him, he knew he was about to get a song and gave her an encouraging smile.

"Well… I'm guessin you're not a hymn man, like Daddy was. And you're not gonna like the musicals like my mom or Annette. But Arnold always liked "Blue Christmas," the one by Elvis? I bet you'd like that one." She determined with a nod.

"Well then, you gonna sing it for me or not?"

Beth started singing softly, taking Daryl's hand in hers as she felt out the rhythm for a song she hadn't thought about in years. Her version was softer than the original, a higher pitch, but Daryl didn't seem to mind. After only a few lines he closed his eyes, leaning his head back to focus on her voice.

As she finished, Daryl turned to her, opening his eyes slowly. "I like it… but it's a little sad for a Christmas song don't cha think? Aren't those things 'posed to be happy or somethin?"

"Daryl Dixon, are you sayin you want a _cheerful _Christmas song? Just what have I done to you?" Beth teased, breaking into a smile so wide her eyes began to squint.

Daryl let the right side of his lips curl into a smile before pecking the side of Beth's head. "Damn it, I don't know Greene, what _have _you done to me?"

"You just needed a little Christmas, that's all."


End file.
